


~Drink Me ~

by lady_meatball



Series: The Bear and the White Rabbit [3]
Category: British Actor RPF, Henry Cavill (Actor), Henry Cavill RPF
Genre: F/M, Gen, Romance, Romantic Comedy, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:08:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27129013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_meatball/pseuds/lady_meatball
Summary: Katie meets up with Henry for a (few) drink(s) after CinemaCon.
Relationships: Henry Cavill/Original Female Character(s)
Series: The Bear and the White Rabbit [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1968901
Kudos: 14





	~Drink Me ~

[Originally posted by r0smunda](https://tmblr.co/ZonhCj2R-CH9B)

Today had been an utter shit show-from how it had started out, through all the mishaps and fumbles as the day waxed and waned…you could say it was one of the ‘worst’ days of my life, and be incredibly astute in that proclamation. Only, that claim wasn’t entirely true…there had been a silver lining, and his name was Henry.

What had started off as me doing a favor for a friend of a friend in Las Vegas had resulted in a terrible day for furthering my professional connections with a prolific agency in that city, one that handled performers on the Strip, big name celebrities appearing for promotion and their own performances and even advertising campaigns. No one in the team kept me for more than an hour, or for as long as the cloud of bad luck took to catch up with me it seemed.

As soon as the days events wound down, and the talent had been released to enjoy the fruits of Las Vegas in what could be considered our ‘late spring’, I was informed that the person in charge, Stephanie, wanted a word with me in the room serving as the agencies green room.

It didn’t take an idiot to know what was coming with her summons, and I was no idiot.

All throughout the day, I had passed from one person on her team to another, like a bad penny. There had been property damage, accidental on my part, bad timing, you name it, I was guilty of it thanks to the bad stars in misalignment over me. It still didn’t make walking to meet Stephanie any easier.

‘No matter what happens, at least the day isn’t ending with her as the final note…’ I thought as I stepped off the elevator into the hallway, and made for the ‘greenroom’. ‘A movie star is gonna buy you a drink…Superman is gonna buy you a drink, and once you get home after that long ass drive, _THEN_ you can cry and feel sorry for yourself…’

The last few steps before reaching the room were difficult, not only because I knew I was in for my ass to be majorly chewed out by someone I had looked up to and hoped to work with on a more permanent basis someday, but because with each step closer, I felt my anxiety ratchet up higher and higher…and with my _‘let me buy you a drink ‘cause you look like you need one after today_ ’ date with God’s Perfect Male Specimen to happen almost immediately after this chewing out, I knew I was in for a long night after my never ending day.

Approaching the door, I keyed myself in, knocking as I did so to alert Stephanie as I spoke, “Stephanie, you asked to see me?”

“Come in, lock the security bolt behind you-“ I heard called from deeper in the room, and the scene in Cinderella flashed in my mind-where Cindy enters her stepmother’s room to be chastised. Stephanie continued, her smooth Australian accent hiding the venom behind her words, “-I’d like to keep this conversation private.”

**#####**

The honking of horns and stink of stale garbage surrounded me in the parking structure as I walked my personal and professional items to my car. The levels in the garage were ‘open’, but that didn’t mean much when you hadn’t managed to find a spot along the perimeter. The heat locked into each level could be oppressive well into the early morning hours, especially in the summer, but in mid-April, it was only mildly uncomfortable. 

As I walked the asphalt to my vehicle, I blew an exhausted and beat-down sigh through my lips, observing the pigeons fighting over the spilled French fries at the base of an overflowing garbage can, the many Utah license plates dotting the parking spaces and even one car rocking slightly with fogged windows. 

Shrugging the image of some couple getting freaky in the backseat of their Corolla out of my mind, I dug out my keys as I spotted my car. She wasn’t very pretty, she definitely wasn’t new, but she was reliable enough to get me where I needed to go, and that was all that mattered. The fob didn’t work anymore, and I certainly wasn’t going to spend hundreds of dollars to replace it when the car was more than half my age. The trunk latch needed to be jiggled when I opened it to stow away my makeup kit, but that was part of my cars charm.

Before heading back into Caesar’s, I had to see if my anxiety meds had fallen out of my purse. After Stephanie read me the riot act and told me to collect my things, I had certainly needed the pills, but they were nowhere to be found in my bag. I hoped to God that they were on my floor board from when my purse went flying from the passenger seat when I had swerved to miss a coyote on the highway this morning.

The bottle had indeed rolled under the seat, and with a sigh of relief, I twisted the cap off the bottle to retrieve a pill. Checking the clock on my phone, I had a few minutes until needed to head back into the resort. Leaning my head back into the headrest, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

Needing that moment of alone time more than I realized, felt relief in the knowledge that the worst of it was over, and sniffed back the emotions trying to escape me. 

“Today wasn’t your fault.” I told myself softly as I opened my eyes and looked into my rear view mirror. “You aren’t supposed to be there…that’s not where you need to be, working with her. At least we know that, now. Come on, let’s pull up those big girl panties and adult, Kathryn Elizabeth…there is an incredibly handsome man in that casino about to buy you a drink, who happens to be entirely out of your league. Enjoy the free drink, get something to eat to soak up the booze, then, once you get home, you can cry your fucking eyes out. Until then though, lock it away.”

**#####**

Seven o’clock. That was what he told me.

Standing at the entrance of ‘Vista’, the cocktail lounge closest to the entrance of The Colosseum, I checked my clock once more before looking up to scan the surrounding area. A sea of flashing lights on slot machines and moving faces of people migrating with the flow of traffic were what I saw…and none of them belonged to the man I was supposed to be meeting. I stood watching the crowds for another minute or two before stepping up to the podium and showing my identification to enter.

The lounge was cream and black with chrome and gold surfaces accenting the decor. Art of beautiful women in lux clothing and handsome men in furs intersected portraits of famous musicians around the room. It was a gorgeous bar, for sure, and Henry would definitely blend right in with the aesthetic…but I couldn’t help but think this wouldn’t have been the kind of place I expected him to like. The atmosphere was just a little too ‘stuffy’ and the whole lounge was open concept as well as brightly lit…not exactly the best place to try to have a drink with somebody of the opposite sex when you’re world famous, I observed to myself. 

Taking it all in, I stood off to the side of the walkway to wait, hoping I hadn’t been ‘ghosted’ by Superman and my free drink. It was ten minutes before I got my answer.

“I’m _terribly_ sorry, my assistant was running late-“ I heard from behind me as Henry approached looking embarrassed and ever so slightly sheepish, “-he takes Kal when I can’t have him with me. He’s not ** _too_** spoiled, that dog…I just don’t like leaving him alone in new places for long periods of time.”

[Originally posted by justaholesir](https://tmblr.co/ZMrjcY2lrgu8q)

“Are you sure this is where you want to have a drink?” I blurted out, unthinking. His brows lifted in question, not only at my response to his apology for being late but for the form of greeting itself.

“ _Sorry_?” His deep voice asked, confusion washing over his face as he looked from me to gaze around the room. “Is this not alright?”

“It’s just…not exactly the first place I would have thought to find you…I mean, not exactly…” I explained, realizing how that sounded and feeling the heat of embarrassment flood my cheeks. “It, I don’t know, it just seems really open…really bright in here. Not somewhere a guy like you could just kind of… _fit in._ ”

Henry looked around once more, taking in the lounge with a nod.

“Honestly-“ he conceded, leaning i slightly to drop his already deep voice down to a lower octave to maintain the train of thought, “-I’ve never been here before, the concierge recommended it…and you make a very valid point. It is rather bright and not very accommodating for privacy, is it?”

Shaking my head, I agreed with his observation before adding one of my own, “I think this is a champagne bar, if I remember correctly…”

“Nothing wrong with a bit of bubbly…” he pointed out, causing me to agree with him yet again, but I knew I needed something stronger than bubbles after the day I had endured. Henry scanned the length of the bar, a frown appearing on his face a millisecond before he let his disappointment be known as he sighed, “No Guinness. Care for a change in plan?”

“And scenery?” I laughed, relieved he offered trying a different bar. He nodded, once again a sheepish expression creeping over his face. “Please, by all means, let’s go.” 

Holding his arm out, Henry ushered me to lead the way.

“Is there anywhere you’d recommend? It seems you know your way around here much better than I do, I usually only go to the sports betting bar when I’ve been to Las Vegas…” he offered as we walked out of the fancy cocktail lounge and dove back into the flow of people in the casino.

“Now _that_ I can believe.” I teased, noting the way he kept his head slightly lowered as we walked. “Do you want to grab a drink there?”

“No, that isn’t exactly the best place to hold a conversation…” he smiled as he explained, left hand coming to rest against the small of my waist in an attempt to maneuver us around a clump of people at a slot machine, “-it gets a bit rowdy, and awfully loud. Not somewhere I’d take a woman if I wanted to _actually_ talk to her.”

Shaking my head, I couldn’t believe the words that just came out of his mouth. He had to have caught the surprised look and roll of my eyes, because he quickly went on to explain himself.

“ ** _Fuck_** …I did it _again_.” He cursed himself, hanging his head low to let his exasperation out in a quick breath. Raising his face, Henry licked his lips before explaining, “I’m sorry, for how that may have sounded…I seem to be sticking my rather large foot in my mouth a lot lately.”

Right brow lifting in question, I turned to get a better look at him and hopefully a better explanation as well.

“Care to elaborate?”

His face broke into a smile, a rather pained and forced smile, but he answered my question after a moment of looking around us.

“I gave an interview not long ago that may not come across exactly as it was intended once it’s released…my PR team isn’t exactly happy with me at the moment because of it, so now we wait until it’s released.”

“That bad, _huh_?” I asked, genuinely curious about what he could have said to cause such worry amongst his team.

“Well, some might say _yes_. Honestly, how it came out made what I was trying to express sound _worse_ , but the sentiment behind what I was saying was _real_ …”

Glancing away from Henry and his guilty expression, I saw what I was looking for. Grabbing his hand, I started off in the direction of the bar I was searching for, knowing we had been standing in one place long enough and could start drawing a crowd.

“Dare I ask what you were talking about?” I asked over my shoulder as I led him through a small crowd bottleneck in the entrance to one of the celebrity owned restaurants inside Caesar’s Palace. The hallway leading to the smaller, dimly lit bar called Cleopatra’s Barge was nowhere near as crowded as the rest of the floor, so I moved to let go of Henry’s hand as I no longer needed to…but the larger hand held on. The fluttering feeling that filled me had a brief moment of indulgence before my senses took the reins once more. Once more, I made the move to break the connection and this time, succeeded.

“The ‘Me Too’ movement…” he admitted softly. 

Turning my face to look at him, I saw the look of guilt back on his face, self consciousness washing over him, not only for the subject matter, but for my pulling away it seemed.

“Henry…” I called softly, seeing the tinge of embarrassment taking over his body language, “You want to talk about it?”

“Not really.” He answered swiftly, eyes darting from me to the flash of gold paint down the hallway and then doing a double take once he saw the masthead of the Egyptian Queen, bare breasted, protruding into the hallway. “Gold tits…those are _**massive**_ _golden tits_.”

Unable to help myself, I laughed out loud at his observation.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?”

“Not when they’re _**THAT**_ big and golden, they don’t!” He laughed as well, holding his arm up to point a meaty hand at the sculpted figure.

“Well, you’re in luck, ‘cause that’s where we’re headed.” I chuckled, reaching to touch my hand to his shoulder, moving him along down the shallow ramp towards the bar, telling him, “You can admire them for a little bit longer, but I think I can safely say, Queen Cleo would tell you ‘eyes up here, mister’ in her presence.”

**#####**

The second bar was better. Much better. It was ‘open’ but there were smaller tables dotting the lounge, the lights were dimmed, there was a small stage for a band to perform, and most importantly, there was a tap at the bar…one that had a Guinness handle.

Henry sat at one of the small cocktail tables with Katie near the back corner of the room. Normally, he wouldn’t have sat with his back to the main entrance, but this lounge wasn’t full enough to let him feel anonymous just yet. 

Katie had noticed straight away that the first location wasn’t ideal, and picked up on the layout as well as the brightness of the bar, basically advertising his presence to anybody else enjoying a drink at the time. While this wasn’t exactly a _‘date_ ’ date, Henry did want to spend his time getting to know and talk to this particular woman, not signing autographs and acquiescing requests for selfies. Katie had been right, that first bar wouldn’t have been his first choice. It felt the same as industry after-parties and award show lounges- _too_ fancy, _too_ uptight for his taste, and way _too_ much champagne and canapés for it to be fun.

This was better. They both seemed more at ease in this atmosphere…he had felt that Katie was nervous at the original bar, looking around her on high alert. Here, now, she seemed to have finally let out the breath she seemed to have been holding all day long, especially when she attempted to order her first drink choice…

A short woman in her fifties made her way over to the table a few minutes after they had sat down. Her dark burgundy hair illuminated under the low lighting, giving her a fiery halo that enhanced the heavy Southern drawl she spoke with.

“My name is Darlene, I’ll be your server this evening. What can I get started for you?”

Henry looked over at Katie, indicating she could start.

“Can you make a Graveyard?” She asked, smiling at the older woman.

“A _Graveyard_? Ol’ Dave, he can make _anything_ , sweetheart…but are you **_sure_** you want one of those? It’s awfully strong…”

“What’s a ‘ _Graveyard_ ’?” Henry asked at the same time as Darlene.

Katie turned to him, “It’s just what the doctor ordered…”

“What’s in it?” He asked again, and when Katie didn’t answer, he turned to Darlene, and sought the answer from her.

“Let’s see…-“ she said, shifting her weight to one leg as she thought about the ingredients in that particular beverage before listing them off, complete with fingers to keep tally, “-if I remember correctly, a Graveyard is _vodka_ , _gin_ , _rum…triple sec_ , _tequila_ , _whiskey_ , _scotch_ , _lager_ …and _stout_.”

Henry leaned back into his chair, aghast.

[Originally posted by thepunisher](https://tmblr.co/ZXlBnt2L87o-O)

“ _She’s not having that…_ ” Henry said at the same time Katie spoke up to say, “ _ **One**_ please.”

He and Katie turned away from Darlene to share a look between themselves.

“The two of you sound like me and my ol’ man…” Darlene chuckled.

“She’s _**not**_ having that.” Henry repeated, breaking the glare Katie sent his way to repeat once more to Darlene, “She **won’** t be having that…she has a very long drive ahead of her.”

“Then why don’t we start with you…what would _you_ like, handsome?”

“I’ll have a Guinness from the tap.” He ordered politely before turning back to the woman still glaring daggers at him and adding, “You said it yourself, you have a long drive home, and if you order that… _suicide wish_ in a pint glass, you leave me no choice but to take your car keys and make you stay the night here. **No** , order _something else_.”

“Is he always so bossy?” The server asked Katie.

She tore her glaring eyes away from him long enough to glance up at the woman, a tiny devilish grin pulling at the corner of her lips as she admitted, “Honestly, _I couldn’t tell you_ …I only met him this morning. If His Majesty over here doesn’t object, I’ll have a double Jack, on the rocks and a Guinness as well.”

Henry shook his head in amusement, hands lifted in surrender before tacking on, "I'll take a Jack and Coke as well."

Their waitress appeared a short while later, her small serving tray balanced four glasses- two pints of Guinness, glasses of ice water, Henry's Jack and Coke and a double Jack Daniels on the rocks, as ordered. The drinks were offloaded and she disappeared.

Taking his whiskey and soda as Katie reached for her tumbler of whiskey and ice, Henry lifted the glass in salute. She met his with a soft ‘clink’ of matching expression at she tapped her glass to his, both saying ‘cheers’ softly.

“Was today _that_ bad?” Henry asked as he lowered the glass after his first sip. The velvety head of foam clung to his upper lip, he could feel it, so he licked the foam away. “I mean, after I last saw you, anyway?”

Emerald green eyes on fire with some emotion he couldn’t quite pin down stared at his over the rim of her short glass. She held the look for a long beat, her sip turning to gulp of the amber liquid before lowering the glass to nod her head ‘yes’.

Taking her time, Katie echoed his movement from the second before, slowly licking the remnants from her lips before explaining in a soft, measured voice, “I got told I was incredibly _unprofessional_ for my tardiness as well as my _inexcusable clumsiness_ for cracking a camera lens worth more than my yearly salary…I was compared to a limp cactus in terms of _usefulness_ , **_um_** …I had my _intelligence_ questioned, and was told that _jellyfish_ have a higher I.Q. than myself.”

Henry felt his jaw hit his chest in shock at the words Katie spoke.

“Then the fact that I am not a ‘ _sample size_ ’ was brought up and bandied about, the concern that celebrities and talent agencies would be concerned about somebody ‘ _borderline obese_ ’-“ she continued on, hands lifting to ‘air quote’ the hurtful words before falling back into her lap, “-working in such close proximity was brought up…like ‘ _fat_ ’ in contagious…um, and the _cherry on top_ , as I was told that I would never be asked to fill in for their agency ever again, was she had looked at my portfolio and I was, let me see…her words were, ‘ _a local yokel bargain basement amateur attempt at makeup’ that will never work higher than ‘tacky weddings at my local hairdressers shop and ugly girls for school dances’_.”

The look on her face was a struggle of wills-wanting to collapse into tears and fighting them back from falling. Henry could see her chin tremble with each breath as she sat staring at her glass, lost in thought for a long moment.

Looking up, she hit him with the full force of her green eyes-full of hurt, anger, shame and embarrassment as well as tears. Reaching for her glass, she lifted it once more, taking another huge gulp of liquid before asking with sarcasm, “I don’t know, what do _you_ think? Sounds like a **_great_** day, doesn’t it? Maybe now that Graveyard sounds warranted?”

“I’m so very sorry.” Henry whispered, his whiskey gripped in one hand on the table, his other reaching across to offer his consolation. “I’m at a complete loss for words, right now…I’m sorry. You’re none of those things, don’t listen to a word some slag says, to justify her bad day…this woman doesn’t know you…”

“ **You** don’t know me, Henry.” She countered, a loud sniff betraying her emotions yet again. “No more than **I** know you.”

Tilting his head, Henry leveled a look in Katies direction. She matched his stare down, brows lifted to challenge him. She had been speaking entirely true, but now was a moment of needing to reassure this young woman, not reinforce the devastating and untrue words spoken to her by a mean and spiteful woman.

“No, we don’t know each other past our names-“ he admitted freely, relaxing to deescalate the bomb he had set off with his question, pointing out the few things he did know about her in a softer voice, “-but I do know that you can bowl over a fully grown mature male Akita, you have the balls to knick desserts from places you shouldn’t, you swear like a sailor, don’t back down from a challenge, you order a respectable drink, and most importantly…I’ve just learned you are an incredibly strong person for facing everything that happened today and are sitting here, having a drink with an idiot like me when you probably really just want to break down, because those were incredibly hurtful insults hurled at you by somebody you said you looked up to…”

Katie watched him through his little speech, eyes never leaving his face even though they teared up once again. Stoicism seemed to be a major component in her armor against the outside world, but the tiny flare of her nostrils as she tried to steady her breathing and set of her jaw advertised her fight with her emotions.

Lifting her glass again, she tossed back the remainder of the liquid. The grimace of the kickback the whiskey elicited told him even more about the type of person this woman was.

“ _Moving on_ …” she croaked as she set the empty glass to the side of the table, steering the conversation away from her, “You said you don’t like to leave that bear of yours alone in new places…any particular reason?”

Henry sighed, realizing this one wasn’t going to make it easy for him to crack her outer walls.

“He has…I guess you could call them ‘ _digestion_ ’ issues after long flights and extensive traveling.” He admitted. “I would rather a trusted friend keep an eye on him than come back to my hotel room to find… _presents_.”

“Understandable. I mean, who doesn’t have issues when they travel?”

**#####**

It had been a little after seven in the evening when Henry and I had sat down at a table in Cleopatra’s Barge, and when I had last checked my phone, the clock read out almost eleven. That had been a while ago, and now, on our third round of drinks, I had consumed enough alcohol to ‘forget’ my terrible day and let my hair down, literally and figuratively.

“…so, imagine, there I am, deep in this dungeon, trying to execute a raid for a particularly epic piece of loot, totally oblivious to the real world, and my bloody phone is blowing up next to me. I was being offered the part of Superman, and I was otherwise occupied, couldn’t care less…” Henry told me, completely into the retelling of his story with hand gestures and reacting the raid, his expression lit up.

“You are a dork.” I injected, smiling into my Guinness with a chuckle. “Fuckin’ _nerd_ …”

“Hey, I love my games! Escapism at its finest!” He grinned as he sat back and reached for his own new glass. He took a sip, licked off the foam mustache and added softly, “I’m just _Henry_ when I play. _Not_ ‘Superman’, _not_ a celebrity… ** _just_** the kid that grew up to love playing RPG stories on an old PC. I’m just a ‘ _normal_ ’ guy, another person in my guild working with other like minded people, wanting to have fun.”

“I can respect that.” I told him truthfully with a small smile and a nod, adding, “Reading Tolkien is my chosen form, but I get it with the games. I play Skyrim every so often for those reasons, and Shadow of War too.”

Henry nodded in approval, lifting his glass in salute, offering, “You should try The Witcher 3 sometime. If you like those two games, you’d more than likely enjoy that one…it’s one of my favorites, _actually_. I’ve played it more than a few times. I’m actually trying to play the main character in a cinematic version, but that’s hush hush.”

“Maybe you _shouldn’t_ be talking about it then…” I teased with a gentle kick to his ankle under the table. “Remember, _loose lips sink ships_ , Mr. Cavill.”

“Touché.” He nodded, taking another sip of his beer. “So, Tolkien, _huh_? Great taste, I have to say. A bit _on the nose_ for the ‘high fantasy’ genre, but admirable.”

Catching the playful dig at how mainstream my favorite ‘world’ was, I lifted my free hand to flip him the bird yet again. My response earned a hearty laugh from him.

[Originally posted by soldierwinters](https://tmblr.co/ZCXr2y2aPXEDf)

The conversation ran the gamut from video games and books to sports to education to family and animals to food and everything in between, allowing me a glimpse into the man behind the characters and I was sure a glimpse of myself in return.

He was turning out to not only be incredibly gorgeous, but kind, sweet, caring and funny. In the time we had holed up at the small table in this lounge, it seemed I was laughing more and more as the night went on. I knew the alcohol had helped in loosening me up after the day, but Henry had a sense of humor, and it clicked with mine easily. He was making it more and more difficult to fight the urge to feel attracted to him, but with every small proof he was worthy, a flash of the past would come to my mind and I was back to square one, telling myself no.

“…do you know how _surreal_ it is to say ‘Tom Cruise sent me a Christmas cake’?”

“I would imagine…but, I’m not a fan of his, sorry…” I admitted with a grimace before adding, “…but that cake…that sounds amazing.”

“Not a fan of Tom?” Henry asked, gobsmacked. “How is that even possible?”

Shrugging, I explained, “I’ve just never been a fan of his movies. And the whole Scientology-thing…that’s some incredibly shady shit. He doesn’t do anything for me…but coconut cake, _now that’s different_.”

“That cake was incredible, I ate the whole thing by myself…” he admitted proudly. “Had to had an extra hour of cardio to my workouts to burn it off, but it was definitely worth it.”

“I admire the ethic, but I could never do what you do in regards to working out, but I sure do like to eat…” I pointed out. “In the words of Sophia Loren, ‘I’d rather drink wine and eat pasta than be a size zero.’”

“Sure you could.”

“No.” I laughed. “I know myself too well, I like to eat but I’m lazy. I’m pretty sure I’m actually a cat…I eat, I scream randomly, and I will sleep the majority of the day if allowed.”

“That sounds like Heaven, but the endorphins after a good work out are just as nice…trust me, as a former fat kid, I _know_ what I’m talking about.” Henry stated and I sat back.

“You, _fat_? I don’t believe it.” I said in disbelief.

Leaning to one side, he moved to retrieve his phone, smiling.

“ ** _Believe it_**. My nick-name as a child was ‘Fat Cavill’, darling. I was the stereotypical fat loner in a stuffy British boarding school-“ he admitted, grinning widely as he stared at the screen while his fingers moved over the glass. It only took seconds for him to find what he was looking for and his phone was turned to face me, showing a photo of a preteen in a uniform and some seriously adorable baby fat, “-I got bullied, I hardly had any friends, ate my feelings and routinely cried over the telephone to my mum. Just because I look like I do now doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy food, because I _fucking_ **_love_** to eat…now I just know what I have to do to make it look as though I don’t.”

“More power to you, meanwhile, I’ll be over here eating enough pasta for the both of us.” I laughed.

“I’m betting with the right _motivation_ , you’d enjoy working out…” he added, and I couldn’t help but think I caught a whiff of poorly veiled innuendo flavoring his words. 

“Playing sports, sure. I loved volleyball in middle school, I played on the basketball team, was part of my school’s co-ed flag football team, in high school my last P.E. Class was weightlifting for some reason…” I admitted, confessing while attempting to move Henry along from his last comment, “By the end of my day, I’m mentally, emotionally and physically exhausted. Some days it takes all I have in me to drag ass up the fifteen steps to my apartment, Henry…I’m on my feet all day long at my real job, running full speed ahead from the moment I clock in to the moment I clock out and lock up at night. I do makeup on my days off…I make coffee for a living. Customer service, it’s draining. I don’t have relationships outside of work because I’m ‘peopled out’. This is actually the first time I’ve ‘been out’ with somebody other than my mother and stepfather in a very long time.”

“You don’t have friends?” He inquired with sadness. “No one to hang out with?”

“Not really. I keep my circle incredibly small these days.” I told him truthfully. “The last few years have been… _transformative_ , you might say.”

His head tilted to the right, brows pinching into a frown at my confession before he prompted me to go on explaining.

“Well, let’s see…I moved from California, where I was born and raised to Las Vegas a couple of years ago at the invitation of my childhood best friend who was living here. She had just had twins, and asked me to be their Godmother and to move in with her and her mother to help raise them. I moved and shared a two bedroom apartment with her, her mother, the twins, and the deadbeat baby-daddy. As time progressed through the year, I got more and more of the bills hoisted onto me before my ‘friend’, her mom and the babies up and left to go to Washington state for an ‘undetermined’ amount of time to handle a ‘family’ matter. Then the lease on the apartment ran out, the deadbeat wasn’t going to re-sign another lease without them coming back, so I had to scramble to find a new place to live. That was when I moved to Pahrump, about an hour west of Las Vegas because my mom and stepdad had just moved there…needless to say, my ‘best friend’ from the age of thirteen is no longer in my life. That was a nearly twenty year friendship, just flushed down the toilet…and then there’s my _taste_ in men to factor into the equation as well…”

Sitting back, Henry leaned to the left; his arm rested on the arm of his chair and soon his hand came to rub against his jaw and lips as he watched me closely with a guarded look.

Needing another dose of liquid courage to spill more truths about myself, I took two long drinks from my half full pint glass to empty it. Setting the cool glass back to the table surface with only a little bit of foam sliding along the inside to the bottom, I breathed deeply and stepped off the edge of the cliff.

“You see, I seem to have a ‘ _type_ ’…”

“Which would be…?” His velvety voice interrupted, drawing my attention from the soggy corner of the napkin his pint sat on and the safe space it provided me with to make these vulnerable confessions. 

Looking up, I made eye contact and saw a difference in the expression he wore as he watched me. His eyes seemed darker, more sharply focused, like a pointer having spotted its quarry, despite the handful of pints he’d tossed back. I knew that look, it took me back to another night down the street at a different casino with a different Perfect Male Specimen…and suddenly I felt my subconscious scrambling to back away from this situation as fast as she could.

“What’s your ‘type’, Katie?” Henry asked softly, thick masculine fingers casually stroking his lips as he continued to pin me to the chair with his gaze.

Forcing myself to swallow the sudden and huge lump in my buzzed gullet, I whispered, “ _Tall_ , _dark hair, light eyes_ , _incredibly handsome_ , and _so beyond out of my league_ …in other words, **_you_**.”

The change in his body language sent a shock-wave through the air to me, and in that moment, it wasn’t Henry sitting across from me at this tiny table, but ‘ _him_ ’…the guy that screwed me up in more ways than I cared to admit. Henry said something, but I couldn’t hear it. I was watching a collection of memories flash through my mind as I felt my heart begin racing in my chest.

Reaching across the table, I snagged his glass, tossing back the remainder of the liquid.

“ ** _Hey_**! _Are you alright_?”

“No, _not really_ …” I answered, wiping my thumb over my mouth to rid the foam clinging to my lips. “Ghosts of…ghosts of my past, coming back to haunt me.”

“Care to talk…” he offered, but I cut him off with a violent shake of my head.

“No, I don’t.”

“Why do you say **_I’m_** out of your league? I thought we were enjoying our time, the conversation…I thought we were connecting?” Henry pointed out, his right hand lifting to illustrate his surprise at my sudden halt in the discussion.

“Because I’ve learned that I fall for men out of my league, whether I want to or not, and they tend to either do one of two things…” I explained, realizing I wasn’t going to be able to get out of avoiding this topic short of an act of God aiding me. Angry, frustrated, embarrassed and teetering on the edge of drunk, I went on to tell Henry, “Option **one** , the man in question ** _KNOWS_** the discrepancy between him and myself, and wants to keep himself _entertained_ , so he strings me along with just enough attention to keep me around and panting for more…or option **two** is he uses every available opportunity he’s presented with to hurt me with flaunting somebody in his league in front of me, being cruel, talking about me behind closed doors to mutual acquaintances… _you name it_.”

“That still doesn’t explain why you think I’m ‘ _out of your league_ ’, or the passive accusation that I am **_that_** kind of man, which I am most certainly am not…”

“ _You can’t be serious…_ ” I scoffed in disbelief, lifting my right arm to gesture across the table at him, “Henry, _look at **you**_ … ** _you_** are a **twenty** on a scale of **one-to-ten**. You’re six plus feet of ‘God’s Perfect Man-trademark’-“ I gestured to the top of his head, and began listing things off, “-with the head of thick glossy almost black curls, the piercing blue eyes, the strong nose and chiseled bone structure, the deep and smooth voice that sounds like _sex_ with the classy British accent…you’ve got the face and body of a Greek-fucking-God, I mean, you’re biceps are as big as my Goddamn thighs, for fucks sake! We are in **no way** in the _same_ league, and you _know_ it. If you try to deny it, you’re lying through those adorably imperfect teeth.”

He sat stony faced, watching me with that piercing glare of his, not saying a word.

“You’re _Superman_ …for good reason. You look like what a movie star _should look like_ …you should have a different supermodel on your arm whenever you feel like it. You are…-“ I spat out, pausing to emphasize his presence with both my hands held extended in his direction to accompany my speechless expression before finding my words and continuing with “-…you are a ‘ ** _Perfect Ten’_** …”

“I thought I was a ‘ _twenty_ ’…?” He interjected, “A minute ago, I was a ‘ _twenty_ ’, now I’m a ‘ _Perfect Ten_ ’…”

“You’re a fucking ‘ ** _Perfect Ten_** ’, and on a good day, I’m maybe a ‘ _six_ ’.” I finished. “I’ve learned that ‘ _sixes_ ’ don’t mix with ‘ _tens_ ’…I learned that lesson the hard way.”

“Are you quite finished? Can I talk now?” Henry asked after long minute of silence and me willing back tears. His voice, soft and calm, called me, “Katie, will you look at me while I say what I have to say?”

Pressing my eyelids tight, I sniffed deeply and prayed my alcohol fueled tears to reabsorb rather than fall in this moment before lifting my head to meet his gaze with my own steely look.

“Are my _looks_ the only thing you’ve seen through all the interactions we’ve had today? Or have I have been mistaken in thinking that we were connecting in deeper ways in the last few hours over a few beers…” Henry stated, his face showing a mix of hurt and anger as he spoke, “You seem to be focused on a _single_ facet of me…my physical appearance. Well, I have **no** control over the way I look…”

“ _I know…_ ” I admitted guiltily, but Henry cut me off.

“ _I’m not finished_ …I have been enjoying your company this evening. Truly, I have, but if you’re going to paint me with the same brush as some **_arsehole_** that treated you so terribly, without the opportunity to prove I am _not_ that person…” he told me, letting his anger shade his expression, and making me feel all of an inch tall in the process. “I’m so very sorry that you’ve had to live through whatever this man did to you, _truly_ , I am…but have you **not** heard any of what I’ll told you about myself at this table? You said it yourself, I am a ‘ ** _nerd_** ’. I play role playing games on a PC, I read ‘high-fantasy’ books for enjoyment…my brothers routinely beat the ever living shit out of me when we see each other, just to keep me grounded. I am _**not**_ the man that hurt you, and I’d greatly appreciate **_not_** being compared to him… _in case you haven’t noticed_ , I’m here because I **_bloody well want_** to be.”

Henry paused, taking a breath and reaching for his pint glass instinctively. The bitter disappointment of it not being where it was supposed to be along with it being empty was crystal clear, and he turned to look for Darlene; he made eye contact with the server, signaling another round for the table before turning back to fix his glare and brooding frown on me once more.

“Do you know how novel it is to come across a _person_ , let alone an _attractive_ woman, who doesn’t fawn and fall over themselves when I meet them?” Henry asked, trying to drive his counter speech home to me. “You couldn’t seem to care less all day who ** _I_** was, just that I was some ‘ _roided out ‘man stripper’_ that made you late for your shitty day, flipping me off because our paths kept crossing…I can’t tell you just how nice it was to **not** have my looks be the **_first_** thing about me to be noticed…”

“ _I’m sorry_ …” I apologized, sincere in my sentiment and heart. “…for judging you against Cam… _against him_. I told you, my ‘type’ is also responsible for why I keep my circle small. Outside of professional relationships, I only have my family…it’s no excuse, but my social skills are a little rusty.”

Darlene approached, setting the two full glasses on the table and taking away the empties, but not before expressing last call was soon approaching and the bar would close soon after.

Staring at the foam at the top of the glass, I went on to further explain, “I make it a point to live my life in honesty…I don’t see the point in hiding behind fake words and blowing smoke up anybody’s ass, _famous or otherwise_ …you, **_you_** were the silver lining in my terrible, horrible, shitty, no good day. You made me smile and laugh when all I really wanted to do was burst into tears, and I appreciate that, because you did not _need_ to do that.” 

Rolling my lips into my mouth, I needed a second to gather the nerve to say what I needed to get off my chest next, but catching Henry move to catch my eye, I knew it was now or never…

“I like you, Henry… _I do_ …”

“ _Buuuuuut_ …I’m expecting there to be a ‘but’…” he drawled as he grasped his fresh glass but didn’t lift it for a sip yet.

“…but, I can’t ‘ _like_ ’ you, not like _that_ …I just **_can’t_** let myself.” I professed quietly. “My heart hasn’t healed from whatever you want to call that situation, and I don’t know if it ever will…”

“So you’re just going to spend the rest of your life alone and shut off from people?” He questioned, upset as he pointed out, “That’s no way to live your life…”

“But it’s safer.” I whispered, lifting my glass for one final first sip of the night.

“And **empty**. Don’t you want to get married one day? Have a family?” He asked, still holding his glass and watching me like a hawk. “Don’t you want to be loved?”

That last comment struck a nerve, and suddenly my glass was slammed against the table a little too forcefully, sloshing the dark liquid over the rim and onto my hand as I snapped with tears spilling over my lower lids, “Yes, I’m not **_entirely_** _heartless_ , Cavill. Do you really think **_I truly_** enjoy keeping people at arms length, just for _shits and giggles_? **_No_**. I’ve learned some hard lessons in a very short amount of time, and it’s difficult to trust people when you realize you’re _disposable_ …I look out for myself because the only other person I can trust to do so is _my mother_ , and she won’t be around forever.”

Leaning forward, Henry extended his hand to me.

“ **Keys** … _hand them over_.” He said softly, resting his hand palm up on the table and motioning to me with a wave of his fingers. I froze, glass lifted to my lips, staring at him in confusion. He spoke up again, his voice becoming more commanding as he repeated himself before explaining, “ _Give me your car keys_ , Katie. You’re not driving, you’re drunk, it’s last call, and you aren’t driving until you sober up, so give me your keys, _please_.”

“No.” I countered, my face screwing up in defiance at his demand which only seemed to spurn him on.

“Please, _you’re not driving_. Just give me your car keys, come upstairs…”

“I’m not sleeping with you. I thought we established I am a _cold hearted_ and _damaged_ ice bitch…” I blurted out between sips of my Guinness.

He stopped, eyes pressing tight as his jaw set and his nostrils flared in frustration.

“ _Did I mention you sleeping with me?_ ” He snapped angrily before taking another breath to calm himself, “I was going to say that all the restaurants are closed, _come upstairs_ and we can get something ordered from room service and allow you a more comfortable space to sober up…I was going to offer you the spare hotel room my team has been using as base-camp, ** _no_** mention of my room. It’s yours to use _if you want_ , but I need your car keys…call it an insurance policy.”

“I take it back, you **_aren’t_** the silver lining to my shitty day anymore…” I growled through gritted teeth, “You’re the **_shit covered cherry on top of sundae_**.”

[Originally posted by mcavoys](https://tmblr.co/ZdoT6f2UpVITa)

Flexing his hand again, Henry stared me down until I broke under his intense gaze and relented, digging out my keys and slamming them into his hand with unnecessary force as I grumbled out a surly, “ _Fuck you, you gorgeous bastard._ ”

He had the balls to send a Cheshire Cat-like smirk across the table as his hand closed around my commandeered keys, softly muttering under his breath, “ _Maybe someday, you insufferable stubborn woman._ ”


End file.
